15. Kate
KATE
I still think happily-ever-afters are a myth.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in them.
I still think Adam Foley is an asshole.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not in love with him.
And it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting him for the 6:00-a.m. slot for solo skate time.
Tina and Eunice drop me off in the parking lot and then drive off to find a parking space.
The parking lot is packed full. There are hundreds of people here, waiting around just outside the boards, with their cameras and phones ready.
Nobody is working in Kenton today apparently.
It’s 12:59. They’re all counting down to 1:00.
I speed walk, holding my skates. Ms. Percy is by the entrance to the rink. When she sees me, she looks so relieved. Waving me over, she says, “There you are! Hurry up and get your skates on! Scoot!”
I take a seat on the bench, take off my boots, and lace up my skates.
Adam is standing in the center of the rink, wearing his Icebreakers jersey under his bomber jacket.
I’m still lacing up my skates when they all count to zero.
There’s silence for a few seconds, and you know what—I own it. This is my moment. I’m not going to twist an ankle just because he’s grand-gesturing me. I’m going to win this grand gesture.
Now the crowd is chanting. “Pogueley! Pogueley! Pogueley!”
I finally have my skates securely laced up, so I stand.
When I walk out onto the ice, people are cheering.
It’s insane. I spot Corey and Winslow and Dave and all the Icebreakers in the crowd.
They’re all crying. Such sweet, sweet idiots.
I’m tearing up too, but it’s definitely because of the cold air.
As I skate over to meet Adam, he holds his hand out as if he’s waiting for me to take it.
But all of a sudden, this group of teenagers that are standing outside the rink lift up their instruments, and they start playing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” and march around.
Adam skates backward, away from me. Then he skates toward me with a one-handed reach, pulling back again, coming around again.
I cannot believe this is happening.
He does crossovers around me, like he’s orbiting me. Like I’m the center of his universe. And for now, at least, I believe that I am.
This is all kind of amazing, and I can’t remember ever being this happy.
It’s totally gross.
And I love it.
Adam skates over to me and does a perfect hockey stop right when the song ends. Close enough that I can feel the ice spray. Such a dick move. I love it.
There is so much cheering.
He holds both hands out to me, and this time I take them.
“You can’t just write me a poem and read it live on my podcast and expect me to kiss you in public with half the town watching every time you screw up, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. I figured I’d just give you an orgasm every time I screw up from now on.”
“Okay. I still want that chair you were going to give me, though.”
“Yes, ma’am. Kiss me, Kate,” he says, grinning.
I do. I kiss him. In front of everyone. I don’t know why all these people came here to see it happen; I just know that I’m not scared to kiss or love anyone who would do all this for me, catch me when I fall off a bar counter, and make me breakfast.
When we finally pull our lips apart, we start skating around, hand in hand.
“I hate that I loved that poem so much,” I tell him. “Even though it was more like twelve things that you listed and it wasn’t written in iambic pentameter. That would have really impressed me. But the poem in the movie wasn’t iambic pentameter either, so…”
“I have no idea what movie you’re talking about, but I hate that I love that you know it wasn’t written in iambic pentameter.”
“I hate that you finally went on the podcast when I wasn’t there.”
“I really hated having to look at your brothers’ faces and not yours. But I’ll go on the podcast again when you’re there if you want.”
“I want, Adam Foley,” I say, smiling up at his cocky, handsome face. “I want.”